


Speak my language

by forgotheparable



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Interspecies Romance, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgotheparable/pseuds/forgotheparable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rikku teaches Kimahri her native tongue, and an understanding grows between the pair that transcends any language or cultural barrier. </p><p>Multichapter. Rating will probably change as chapters are added.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. dahdydeja

Rikku was more than a little surprised when Kimahri came over and sat beside her. For one thing, Yuna wasn’t there, so he had no real purpose to come over to her – besides wanting to do so out of his own volition.

And that was the clincher – why would Kimahri want to sit down beside her? Why would he _choose_ to be around her? Didn’t the Ronso believe in Yevon? She was certain they did – because if they didn’t, they would face the same discrimination as the Al Bhed did. And they didn’t. So she deduced that they were followers of Yevon.  
   
But she wasn’t complaining. The company was nice, even if silent. Wakka was still rude to her, if not outright insulting, just because of her race. Auron was disinterested in anything but Yuna’s welfare. Lulu was…well, scary, and Tidus was too busy with Yuna. Which was fine, but it left her with nobody to talk to, or even be around, except for Kimahri.

Kimahri didn’t talk much, but that was okay. Rikku didn’t mind quiet people – she just filled the silence in with her own chatter. Unfortunately, that usually annoyed people, and she didn’t want to annoy Kimahri. Then again, Kimahri seemed so patient that it was probably hard to really annoy him.

Still, she wasn’t sure whether to say anything or not, and that made her nervous.  
   
“Rikku!” Cid came striding through the metal corridors of the airship. “ _Yna oui icehk so duumpuq ykyeh_?”

Rikku flinched at the sudden sound. " _Oac!_ _"_  Remembering her companion, she quickly switched to Spiran. “Sorry. I was just working on something. D’ya want it?”

She could feel Kimahri’s eyes on the pair as they conversed. Cid, noticing his daughter’s tactful change in dialect, did the same. “Nah, nah. I was just wondering where it was.” He gave a dismissive wave, turned and headed back the way he came from.

After giving a little wave of her own, Rikku turned and gave Kimahri a sheepish smile. “Sorry, he was asking if I had his toolbox. He keeps forgetting that you guys don’t speak Al Bhed.”

Kimahri nodded, and Rikku sighed, relaxing. “Right, well, where was I – oh, this is a motherboard, by the way.” She held up the circuit board for the Ronso to see. “It’s the main circuit board in a computer – y’know, like those monitors dotted around the ship? Anyway, they can’t work without these, so I’m repairing one that broke. It’s not urgent, otherwise Daddy would’a fixed it himself.”

She didn’t go into too much detail, because Spirans didn’t use machina very much, and thus she doubted the majority of them would know the inner workings of a computer. Still, Kimahri nodded again, and Rikku could see his tail lifting. She hoped that was an indication of interest, however mild.

They lapsed back into comfortable silence, Rikku working and Kimahri sitting cross legged beside her. And then he spoke.

“What is Al Bhed word for ‘computer’?”

Rikku glanced up at the guardian, surprised. And then she smiled.

“ _Lusbidan_.”


	2. Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm omitting the fact that Yuna can sing for humour purposes.

_“Oh, you've got green eyes Oh, you've got blue eyes Oh, you've got grey eyes,”_

Rikku knelt at the lake’s edge, scrubbing at the shirt submerged in the water.

“ _And I've never seen anyone quite like you before.”_

She raised it up to her eyes, frowned, then plunged it back in.

“ _No, I've never met anyone quite like you before.”_

She twitched at the sound of rustling leaves. The girl scrabbled to her feet, whipping around, weapon in hand…

“Oh, Kimahri!” Rikku laughed as the Ronso made his way over to her, brushing foilage from his fur. “You surprised me. How can a big guy like you sneak up so quietly, eh?”

Kimahri lowered his head. She thought he looked rather sheepish. “Kimahri sorry.”

“Don’t be silly,” she chimed, giving a dismissive wave. Then she patted the grass beside her. “Wanna come sit beside me?”

She knew that, besides wanting to bathe, that was the only reason Kimahri would be here; and she highly doubted he would bathe in front of her. Something told her that he would be rather private about such things. Rikku shuffled over slightly, and Kimahri sat cross-legged beside her.

“I’m washing one of my shirts because I was mixin’ stuff and it made a mess.” She made a face. Oh, she was used to getting her hands dirty, but the novelty of being covered in various chemicals and secretions only lasted so long. Then she started to feel gross. “How come you always manage to stay so clean, Kimahri?” Rikku queried, admiring his glossy blue fur for a moment before returning to her chore. “I can’t seem to stay neat no matter how hard I try! My daddy always got me into trouble for it, said I grew up covered in soot and oil.”

Kimahri made a soft huffing noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. “Grooming is important to Ronso. Fur needs to be clean. Important to health.”

“I bet,” she agreed, scrubbing harder at her shirt. Her knuckles were beginning to turn white with the movements. “I mean, isn’t it a pain when you get something stuck in it?” The mechanic looked up to see Kimahri’s answering grimace. “Thought so.”

She held out her arm. “I don’t take too good care of my skin, though. It’s hard when you grow up in the desert. It gets dry and cracks so easy when you’re a kid, then it sorta becomes so calloused that it’s not an issue. But look how _dry_ it is!” She had contemplated covering up more after Tidus had not-so-tactfully pointed out her ravaged skin.

Much to her surprise, Kimahri touched her arm. His hand all but surrounded her forearm, warm and soft. It shouldn’t have surprised her, how gentle he was, because she _knew_ he was – but it did. It was maybe because of the knowledge he could easily snap her arm with a flick of his wrist, or tear her tendons out with his claws. Or perhaps it was because she was an Al Bhed, and most Spirans would rather be touchy feely with a feral couerl than an Al Bhed.

“Soft,” he said simply, quietly. His thumb stroked her wrist, and Rikku felt a strange, electric sensation at the light touch. It felt nice.

“Not as soft as you are,” she giggled, running a finger up Kimahri’s much thicker forearm, up the curve of his bicep. “You’re like a big teddy bear.” That was really what he was like, despite his intimidating appearance and his stoic demeanor.

There was silence for a little while, except for the sloshing sounds of water and Rikku’s humming. And then Kimahri spoke again. “Rikku sings?”

She flushed. “Oh, you heard me before?” Rikku laughed, nervously. “Sorry. You should’ve just told me to shut my yap if I was annoying you.”

He shook his head. “Not annoying. Nice to listen to.” Kimahri paused, lips curving in a slight smirk. “Better than Yuna.”

A stream of giggles escaped the Al Bhed, bubbling up from her throat. “Yuna _sings_?”

“Badly,” Kimahri drawled, shaking his head. “Sounds like couerl in heat.”

That did it. She doubled over, howling with laughter at the very _thought_ of Yuna singing badly, with the added imagery Kimahri so helpfully supplied. “O-O-Oh _gods_ – oh my - geez, seriously?” she managed between wheezing breaths, face reddened. “I’ll need to a-ask her at some point for a duet!”

After she managed to gather herself together, Rikku squeezed out the water from the now clean garment and laid it out beside her to dry. “Do _you_ sing Kimahri?”

“No,” came his definite, resolute answer, and Rikku knew she wouldn’t be hearing a song anytime soon.

“ _Fine_.”

So she began singing herself – softly, in Al Bhed. It was an old, old song, one she only distantly remembered from her childhood, in a voice far different to her own.

“What is Al Bhed for ‘song’?” Kimahri asked, the deep rumble of his voice contrasting with her high chime.

“ _Cuhk_ ,” she hummed, delighted that he asked. “ _Kuoo-ha-kuk_ – it’s pronounced like that…”


	3. Home

The night was cool, dark and quiet, which suited Kimahri just fine. It had been too long since they had been in such an environment. Staying on the tropical island of Besaid had made the Ronso long for the frosty climate of his birthplace; and travelling through the desert where the Al Bhed resided had been positively  _hellish._

Macalania forest was much more suited to his physiology, even if the lush foilage was a far cry from the icy terrain of Gagazet. It was certainly more interesting to look at. Various animals skittered around, benign compared to the fiends lurking within the shadows. Flowers were bursts of colour, vivid against the more subdued backdrop of the woods. The night was lit up by ethereal lights, the origins of which were unknown. In short, it was nothing like the icy peaks of his mountainous home.

But was it really his home? He hadn't thought of it as such for so long, and had yearned to escape long before his horn had been broken. Humiliated daily by his comparably small size and stature, Kimahri had never truly felt like he belonged amongst the Ronso, despite being one through and through. He was expected to have died early, being the runt of a litter that fought for their mother's milk; being a scrawny pup who shivered violently against Gagazet's freezing winds.

Yet he had struggled on, because that was all one could do and was what one was expected to do in the constant winter. Instead of being commended for his endurance, however, Kimahri had been marked as a burden.

He had never expected praise. The praise of the Ronso was hard-earned, and he had not done anything exceptional. He only did what they all had to do, growing up.

He was jerked from his reverie as Rikku came bounding through the greenery, calling out in her cheery manner.

"Hey you! Wat'cha doin', all out here on your own?" The girl clasped her hands behind her back and beamed. "Mind if I join you?"

He shook his head, and she scrabbled beside him. "Sure is nice here, right? Even if it's a bit claustrophobic for me. The desert is so wide and open compared to this place. Still, at least it's not as hot for you, huh?"

Kimahri nodded, empathically.

"Yeah, I thought so." She shifted, laying on her back. "Still, the sun is nice. You must have never really seen any sun, where you come from." A pause. "It's so hard to feel bright and breezy when there's no sun. For me, at least!"

There was a name for that, Kimahri knew, but he couldn't recall what it was.

"Do you like the sun, Kimahri? Not the heat, just the sun."

"Hmm." He thought about Besaid, the tropical little island where he watched over Yuna as she grew up. The memory of him chasing her along the beach; of her laughter when she evaded each capture attempt, made his lips twitch. "Besaid not too hot. Cool water. Comfortable."

He shook his head, grunting "But too much sand."

Rikki giggled. "Oh dear," she tittered, giving his side a light poke. "Did you wake up from a catnap one day and found yourself buried underneath the sand?"

"Sand is hard to brush from fur," he responded, stoic.

She laughed again, the sound bright and full of warmth. Kimahri couldn’t help but feel pleased.

He felt a tugging at his arm, light but insistent. “Hey, Kimahri, lie down with me. Look at the stars with me.”

If he had been more of a speaker then he would have remarked that he shouldn’t let himself be bossed around by teenage girls, but he wasn’t, so he just did as he was told.

The night sky was indeed spectacular. Even the glow of the strange lights dotted around the forest couldn’t mask the stars that illuminated the night sky. The sky wasn’t dark, in fact, it was as bright as Kimahri could remember seeing it at night, since he had left Gagazet. Only in the wintry mountains could the stars take centre stage so brilliantly; only there could this display possibly be rivalled.

That was before Rikku informed him that her deserts were much the same.

“The desert doesn’t have any rain, so as long as there are no sandstorms, the skies are really clear, even more so than this.” Her voice was softer, almost as if she bordered on a daydream. “It’s beautiful, and it’s nice and cool too, when it’s dark. I used to sit out with Daddy and we would point out the constellations together. Most of them invoooolved…that star, there! Do you see it?”

“Polaris,” Kimahri answered. He always remembered being taught where it was as the leading star to the holy land of Zanarkand.

“That’s right, of course.” Rikku sounded just a little quieter than she had, and not in a good way. “’The light that will lead you to Zanarkand.’” She sighed. “I guess there’s no going back, huh? And even if – _when_ we get through all of this, what’s gonna happen, huh? Where are we all going to go? Are we going to split up?” He could feel her fidgeting beside him. “That makes me sad, thinkin’ of that. Daddy said that’s life, but…I dunno. It’s like, I’ve not go anywhere to go back to. Home is gone.”

Home, the only place where the Al Bhed had to _call home_ , destroyed in a matter of hours by the cruel siege of the Guado, led by Seymour. Kimahri could almost feel his blood temperature rise at the memory.

“Yuna won’t need me after this, an’ I can’t go following her around like a lost puppy. We don’t really know each other, see? I never met her, even though we’re cousins…and I love her, I do! I just…”

He knew. He knew the feeling, the feeling of not belonging, all too well. He had drifted ever since he had left Gagazet, and as much as he cherished Yuna, he knew the time would come when he had to let her go. Whether that would be in the Final Summoning, or when she grew up; becoming too old for his placating hand and guarding gaze, it would still pain him to no end.

“Kimahri abandoned Gagazet.” He slipped his hand across, tentatively clasping her much smaller one. “Kimahri has no home.”

She squeezed, and he could hear the tears rolling down her cheeks, her shuddering breath. Kimahri wasn’t ever certain of what he should do, in these situations, but he found that what he usually said was received well enough. So he spoke again.

“Rikku will not be alone,” he said gently. “Kimahri will be there.”

The Al Bhed was silent for a long, long time. And then she giggled. “I guess I better start calling you ‘ _Rusa’_ , then.”

“Hmm?”

“ _Rusa_ ,” she whispered, cuddling into his arm. “It means ‘home’. _Home is where the heart is,_ right?”


	4. Closure, acceptance

“Do you believe in the Farplane, Kimahri?”

The Ronso tilted his head towards Rikku. They were perched in front of the fire, alone, whilst the others were out foraging the forests for food. The pair had taken their turn some time ago, and thus they could rest.

“What mean by ‘believe’?”

“I mean…” Rikku pursed her lips, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin utop them. They were covered with plasters. “Like…I believe that if you die your spirit passes on. All Al Bhed believe that, that’s why we have funeral rites for them all. We believe in the unsent and fiends being a result of corrupted unsent. But…” she shook her head “the farplane…like, when Yuna went to talk to her parents there…”

Her voice lowered. “Do you really _believe_ that she was actually talking to her parents? I mean, the pyreflies are just forming images of her parents, based on her memories, right? So they aren’t _really_ her parents – oh, I mean, that’s just what I think,” she added quickly, remembering what she was, and what Kimahri was. “I mean, I dunno for sure, but…it’s not like…”

Kimahri mulled over it all. He had always been dubious of Yevon, although he had never voiced that particular opinion. Nobody had asked him of it, so there was no need for him to say it. He had always lived his life by his own gut instinct, doing what was best for Yuna. Everything else was more or less irrelevant, as far as he was concerned.

“Ronso are believers of Yevon,” he said, slowly “but Kimahri doesn’t think Yuna was talking to Yuna’s parents at the Farplane.”

“Right?!” Rikku sat up, suddenly invigorated. “I mean, everyone _knows_ they’re just memories, projections of memories, right? So why does everyone treat it like it’s a sacred place? Heck, they treat that place with more respect than _graveyards_!”

“Most only hear what they want to hear,” Kimahri answered, quietly. “And see what they want to see.”

She fell silent, staring into the flickering flames.

“Did you see anyone you wanted to see?” Rikku asked, almost shyly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

The warrior shook his head, braids swinging. His mother had died whilst he was a young pup, and his father had gotten lost within the mountains one day. He had never seen him again. “Kimahri has no parents,” he stated. “Kimahri doesn’t remember parents. So, Kimahri doesn’t see parents.”

“I see.” She inched closer to him. Her hair was light against the fur of his arm. “Do you wish you could see them?”

Kimahri gave a wide shrug. He never knew them much, so what was there to miss, really?

“Sometimes I wish I believed in the Farplane, _really_ believed in it. I wish that it was the actual spirits you would be talking to, instead of a fabrication made from your memories.” Her eyes glowed, bright from the fire’s flames. “If that was the case then I would go. But it’s not, and I don’t want to play make-believe when it comes to dead folk.”

“They’re dead, and I’d rather remember them as they were, as they _really_ were, rather than what I’d _like_ to think they were. You think you know someone when you love them, but really you just love the good parts about them, right? And when they’re dead, you don’t wanna think about the bad stuff. So you don’t think of them that way. But that’s not how _real_ people are. Real people are mean sometimes; real people do bad things, even if they aren’t bad people.”

He nodded.

“…I’m sorry. It just bugs me a little that people delude themselves like that. And at the same time, I’m a bit jealous that…” she rested her head against Kimahri’s arm. “…that they can find…”

“Solace,” Kimahri said, his voice a deep rumble. He slipped an arm over the girl’s skinny shoulders, mindful of his claws next to her skin. His ears twitched at the soft sigh that hit them.

“Yeah, exactly.” The Al Bhed nestled into the thick fur offered to her. “How come you always know what I mean?”

Rikku was a very open person. It was not a Ronso’s way to pry, so he never asked what he thought she didn’t want to speak of. Still, she was so very different to him, with how she wore her heart on her sleeve; how transparent her emotions were on her face; how her features were constantly shifting and changing with her moods, like a river. Kimahri was more like the earth, like the mountains he was brought up in. He was steady, slow to move and react, but his emotions, thoughts and feelings ran deep, an underground current.

“Rikku talks much,” he quipped, stroking her thin arm with a thumb. “And Kimahri listens.”

And Rikku, Rikku was slowly eroding at the walls he had built around him so long ago.

“Lumoo-kueenah,” she murmured, body almost completely slack against his. “ _Lmucina_. Closure. I wish I could have that closure.”

“ **Penerimaan** ,” Kimahri replied, and he felt Rikku’s soft hair against his torso as she craned her neck to better look at him.

“Is that your language? The language of the Ronso?” Her voice was eager, and her fingers were curled into his fur. “Oh Kimahri, tell me what it _means_!”

“Acceptance,” he said simply, gazing into her strange, green eyes. “Rikku has acceptance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used google translate, english --> indonesian, for the one Ronso word. Sorry if it's inaccurate.


	5. Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pure, shameless fluff and I have no regrets.

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

Some time passed. Rikku’s impatience grew, anxiously simmering away within her gut. It was as if a thousand tiny cogs were her stomach, and they were all turning, turning, turning at the same time; and each time each little part turned, it wound her up tighter and tighter until she could hardly bear it.

“Are we there yet?”

“ _No_ , Rikku.”

She got up and started pacing around. The repetitive sound of her boots on the metal floor, _clank clank clank_ , filled the air. Eventually, it was all they could hear, three clanks for each second that passed.

“Dammit,” Wakka finally snapped, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “Cut it out already!”

Rikku whirled around, scowling. It was rare that she ever truly got annoyed, but the last couple of weeks have worn her down; whittling her cheery, easygoing nature into a sharp, vindictive point. The fact that it was Wakka that had spoken to her didn’t help. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this is _my_ ship, my _evil machina,_ and I’ll make as much noise as I darn well please!”

“Actually, it’s my sh-” Cid began, but his daughter cut him off with a glare.

“Well – well, if it weren’t for you Al Bhed-”

“ _Al Bhed this, Al Bhed that,”_ Rikku threw her hands up, talking over the older Guardian “you Yevonites-”

“Enough!” Cid barked, standing between the pair. He gave both the quarrelling duo a hard look. “I’ve had it up’ta _here_ with both of you, bickerin’ and bitchin’ and bawlin’ at one another! Cut the crap or I’ll kick you both off the ship so y’can do yer’ fightin’ in the desert!”

Rikku’s fists clenched, knowing her father well enough to not make idle threats. “ _Fine._ ” Turning on her heel, the girl stalked out the cockpit, muttering a stream of angry curses as she went.

Eventually, she decided to hole herself up in one of the storage rooms. It was quiet, it was cool, and she would be left alone to mope as much as she pleased. _That Wakka,_ Rikku groused to herself, viciously shredding some paper she had managed to find. She imagined it was Wakka’s face – or his stupid hair. Or maybe his tongue. Yeah, she liked that thought, the thought of ripping his tongue out his mouth. Then he would have no tongue, and that would be _hilarious._

There was a soft tapping at the door. Rikku gritted her teeth. “Go away!”

The knocking persisted, soft and almost tentative.

“I _said-”_

“Rikku,” came a deep, placating voice from the other side. The girl’s eyes widened, and she scrabbled to her feet.

“Kimahri.” She had pulled the door open, and was panting slightly from the exertion she spent during that one swift movement. “I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”

A pause, and then she stepped to the side. “I’m…I’m kind of in a bad mood, sorry. Not – not because of you! It’s just-”

“Kimahri knows,” he rumbled. Rikku breathed, deflating.

“I don’t think badly of Yevonites, y’know. You _know_ that. I just,” she trundled back to where she had sat, slumping against the wall and sliding down. Her eyes stared at the ground, head hanging in dejection. “He just winds me up so much, that Wakka! And he keeps goin’ on about how awful and how _bad_ we all are. I’m just tired of it y’know?” The mechanic fidgeted with a small braid. “I’m sorry.”

The door closed over with a metallic click, and she felt Kimahri ease in the cramped space, right beside her. She let out a deep sigh, and wriggled closer to him.

“I feel like you’re the only one who actually understands how I feel. I mean, Tidus has been _amazing,_ and Yunie is a _total_ sweetheart, but…”

Kimahri was silent, as he usually was, but he did something then that he did _not_ usually do. His arms slid around her, and Rikku quickly found herself deposited on the Ronso’s lap. She blinked.

“Rikku is good person,” he said quietly. His yellow eyes focused on her hand, as he eclipsed it with his own. “Very good friend.”

His tail wound around her wrist, and Rikku instantly thought of it as an expression of trust – she wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was because Kimahri was rather wary of how he placed his tail, and of having his back to others.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she murmured, leaning against the warmth of Kimahri’s broad chest. It felt nice, being so close to him – comforting. Yet, she was also acutely aware of the way his muscles shifted underneath her. “It’s strange, because you’re the quietest out of us all, and yet you’re the one who talks to me the most.”

Her hand slipped up to his chest, scratching idly. “How did you know I was here anyway?”

It was a while before Kimahri answered. She glanced up at him, and his eyes were lidded.

“Hmm…” his head rested against the steel wall. “Kimahri heard argument. Very loud.”

“Sorry,” she said, smiling sheepishly. There was something strange about the quality of his voice, now. She knew what it sounded like, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on it. It didn’t matter, the Al Bhed supposed. Right now, she was a little too distracted by the way the light hit Kimahri’s throat, accentuating the thick lines of muscle it was sculpted from.

_Rikku, no,_ she scolded herself, as her hand crept up. She could hear a faint rumbling, growing with each minute her fingers traced along his fur, up to the point below his chin, and back down to his collarbone. _Ah._

“Are you purring, Kimahri?” Rikku giggled, her strokes turning to light scratches.

The Ronso’s ears flicked, and he opened an eye. “No,” he deadpanned, and she laughed again. He was _definitely_ purring.

It occurred to her that Kimahri didn’t receive much in the way of affection, aside from her and Yuna, but she hadn’t seen Yuna properly interact with Kimahri for a little while. And she certainly wouldn’t sit on his lap – not in that way. _‘What way?!’_ shot through her mind, and she decided to dismiss that train of thought before it developed any further.

“You’re like a big kitty cat,” Rikku crooned, gleeful, as she shifted to better reach his ears. He grunted, and gave her a look that was obviously meant to be a glare - except he wasn’t glaring; he was leaning into her hand and purring.

“ _Lida_ ,” she cooed, and his ear twitched in her hand.

“What mean?” Kimahri asked.

“ _Cute!”_ Rikku giggled, earning her an annoyed huff. She thought she felt his arms tightening around her waist, but that was probably to steady her.


	6. No fighting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Blood, injuries, allusions to violence.

**“ _Run!_ ”**

The call for retreat came from Yuna, a haggard scream that tore from her throat. Half the party was down; Lulu, severely poisoned, was lashing out in a state of delirium, Tidus had been slowed down so much he was virtually useless in battle, and Rikku…

Yuna screamed again, and the four of them made a hasty retreat. Auron was carrying Tidus, Wakka was _trying_ to carry Lulu, and Kimahri had already scooped Rikku up before she had even made the order. Now the summoner was in his arms as well, and the Ronso was running at full pelt through the fields. She had to admire how calm he seemed in this moment, despite the state of their team. Kimahri wasn’t one to panic. He seemed to keep his cool in the direst of situations, and always seemed to know the wisest course of action. It had a reassuring effect on the rest of them, especially Yuna herself.

But she could also read him better than anyone else – well, perhaps except for Rikku. Despite knowing him for far longer, Yuna knew that Kimahri put up a front on her behalf. It would be silly to assume otherwise, for he was her Guardian, and had been her very _first_ Guardian at that. Of course he would. Rikku was his comrade, not his charge, so it made sense that he would relax a little more around her. Yes, Yuna had been very happy that they had bonded so well.

But Rikku’s injuries were grievous and they were all out of medicine. Yuna’s magic was spent, and she couldn’t even muster up enough to heal her broken bones. She was simply too weak.

“Comin’ through!” Wakka bellowed, charging through the few people scattered around the inn. Lulu snarled, thrashing violently in his arms. _“Dammit, Lu, quit it!”_

It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so scary, and so real.

-

“I’m sorry, we’re full. And we only sell supplies to-”

Kimahri couldn’t take any more of this. They had been standing for five whole minutes trying to obtain some medical attention. Wasn’t it _obvious_ just how torn up they all were? Did one of them need to _die_ before they made any progress?

And that was a very real prospect by this point. Blood was seeping into his fur, the crimson liquid staining his pelt mauve. It wasn’t his, for he had managed to evade most of the fiend’s attacks, but _Rikku’s_.

A low, agitated growl rumbled from his chest.

“Look-” Auron snapped, placing Tidus on a chair and brandishing his sword. The metal gleamed. “If you don’t move aside and let us at your stock, _right now_ , I will personally escort Sin to this dump and feed you to him,” he snarled. “Now **_move_**!”

The shopkeeper flinched and stepped aside, glaring.

Yuna leapt forth, scrabbling at the various potions, concoctions and elixers. “L-Let’s see…gosh, there’s so many,” she mumbled, hands trembling as she sifted through the stock. “Remedy…remedy… _remedy!_ ”

“Here we go,” Wakka crooned, attempting to soothe Lulu even as she struggled in his grip. He took the remedy from Yuna. “Drink up the nice medicine…imagine it’s wine. Nice, nice wiiiinnnee…”

Kimahri’s ears flicked as he watched Yuna bring a bottle to her lips, downing the liquid. Some of it trickled from the corners of her mouth, but now was hardly the time to worry about manners. “Right, Kimahri, bring her here.” She swept everything off the shopkeeper’s desk, who whined in protest. Kimahri’s jaw clenched as he slowly, carefully placed Rikku on the surface of it. Her pained whimpers made his chest tighten.

The shopkeeper was still complaining, and Kimahri decided he had had enough. Prowling over to him, Kimahri reached out and scooped the smaller male up by the scruff of his neck.

“H-H-Hey, what do you think you’re--”a high pitch yelp escaped from the man as Kimahri all but dragged him to the front door.

“You,” Kimahri rumbled, lifting the other so they were eye-to-eye. He could hear him swallowing. “Stay out. _Shut_ _up._ ” It didn’t take much effort to toss him out, and with that done, he quickly returned to Rikku.

Yuna was working hard on healing her injuries, murmuring various incantations in a foreign dialect. Her hands glowed white, brilliant light, hovering above Rikku’s torso, where she had sustained the most serious of her injuries – internal damage, broken ribs, amongst other things that Kimahri tried not to think about.

Tidus, having recovered, asked how she was. Yuna pursed her lips, and shook her head. That was enough indication for them all, and the party remained silent as the white mage pored over her only living cousin. Then, Rikku jerked, a sharp cry escaping her.

Kimahri, acting on instinct, reached out for her hand. His other stroked away her bangs, plastered to her forehead by blood and sweat. “Kimahri here,” he murmured, feeling her fingers curling, entwining with his, squeezing hard. She had strength in her still, and even if it made him feel slightly relieved, it was all the Ronso could do not to howl in distress. He could feel the anguished tremor of his vocal cords as Rikku writhed and wept under Yuna’s healing hands.

“Rikku,” Wakka began to approach, and Kimahri whipped his head around. He bared his fangs in a fierce snarl. Oh, he knew Wakka was worried about her, but then and there, Kimahri could only think of the horrible things he had said to her; the tears of frustration that had slipped from the Al Bhed’s eyes as she recounted the jeers and insults she had received due to her race, some of which were from him.

“Leave them, Wakka,” Lulu stepped in, ever the diplomat. Kimahri watched the pair with sharp yellow eyes, until he felt a small hand squeeze his.

“ _Hu vekrdehk,”_ Rikku murmured, her voice tired, strained, but clear. The warrior felt his chest constrict, all his anxiety, tension and grief collapsing into one singular point.

“Rikku.”

“No fighting,” she repeated, gazing up at him, brows drawn into a pleading expression. Her face, ashen and creased with pain, lit up all the same as she saw him soften before her very eyes. “I’m okay, now. _Thank you_ , Yunie.”

“I’m just so glad you’re okay,” the summoner whispered, letting out a deep sigh. Her eyes flicked to Kimahri, assessing his injuries. He had some lacerations, but the Ronso seemed to barely take notice as he fussed over Rikku. A smile curved her lips at his unabashed display of relief.

“Get off me ya big furball!” Rikku giggled delightedly as Kimahri rubbed his face against hers, nuzzling and purring. It looked utterly silly, since Kimahri was practically bent over her, his large frame all but eclipsing the desk, but it was adorable nonetheless.

“Rikku better?” He nosed her hand, almost shyly.

“Better now you’re here,” Rikku replied, reaching over and winding her arms around his neck. Neither of them had noticed Yuna slipping out of the room, with a sniggering Tidus in tow.


	7. You are not alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Skin-picking (which I guess is self harm), mentions of violence and death

 The perilous peaks of Gagazet were silent aside from the howl of icy winds, from the sound of trudging footsteps through thick snow; and where they currently were was a place few had ever absconded to, or even attempted to do so. When Rikku had first seen the mountains, dread had sapped her of the sun that seemed to light her up from the inside. She was terrified, but not of the ordeal itself – rather of what would come thereafter. The fate of a summoner was one that ended in their demise, and Yuna was inching closer and closer to that destiny with each passing second. Tidus had promised her he would think of something, but what could a rambunctious teenager from Zanarkand conjure that an Al Bhed prodigy couldn’t? No offence to Tidus of course, but if Rikku couldn’t think of a solution then it was almost a certainty that Tidus wouldn’t be able to either.

Death surrounded Spira. Death was Sin, death was Seymour; death was the summoner, and the guardians that followed after them. Death was the slaughter of her people, and the massacre of the Ronso.

The latter had happened only a few hours ago. It was so surreal to imagine an entire tribe of warriors, who had lived and built and hunted for generations, wiped out in the span of half a day. It only strengthened her belief that karma was non-existant, and that Yevon was a farce. No amount of sacrifice would atone for Sin, for if that had been the case then Sin would have disappeared long ago.

The Ronso didn’t deserve this. Rikku knew that the Yevonites had killed her people, so in a way she supposed she could take it as a form of karmic retribution; but her people were still dying and two tragedies did not bring everything into balance. No matter what the people of Yevon had done to her and her race, she would not wish this upon them. It was too horrible a fate, and in the end it didn’t truly make anything better. The desire for revenge was not extinguished by violence. She knew that reality all too well.

None of them knew how to approach Kimahri. He had departed some time ago, although he didn’t go very far. Despite having suffered so much, protecting Yuna was still at the forefront of his mind. It made Rikku’s chest ache to think of it.

She got up. “I’m going to go see him.”

There was no room for argument in her statement, but none of them would say a word regardless. After all, she was the only one besides Kimahri who knew how it felt to survive an attempted genocide – twice, in her case.

“Rikku.” It was Wakka. She stopped, although didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry, Rikku.”

His voice was clear, and she could hear the regret resonating within his tone. It surprised her, and for a brief moment it brought her out of the greyness her mind had been plunged into. There were many things she could have said, but all she managed out was:

“My mother died using machina too, y’know.”

She started walking again, and she didn’t look back. The Al Bhed could guess from the silence that entailed that her words had made the impact she desired.

-

“How young was Rikku?”

Rikku had found Kimahri sitting inside a cave, an alcove that sheltered the pair from the icy winds. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, and she knew that his mind would be just as distant. However, he made no indication that he wanted to be left alone, which she knew he would’ve if he had – he was straightforward in that way.  So she had sat down beside him, their arms touching.

“Seven, when they first hit us,” Rikku recalled. If she slept for too long, the screams of those long dead began to seep into her dreams. “There were a lot of us, in the one place. Stupid idea, considering we already knew a group of radical Yevonites were tracking down and killing us off, systematically. Still, we thought safety in numbers, y’know?”

She stopped speaking when she felt Kimahri’s hand eclipse hers.

“Don’t,” he murmured, and she realised that she had been doing _that_ again.

“Sorry,” Rikku mumbled, shifting and sitting on her hands. She wore gloves to quell the effects of her urge, but the kind she wore still exposed a lot of her fingers, which were cracked and calloused – perfect for picking at.

Kimahri shook his head. “No apologies.”

Rikku bit her lip, and scrabbled to her knees. She barely reached his shoulder, but she could place both her hands on his face, tilting his gaze down to meet hers.

“I know you’re not into the whole ‘expressing yourself’ thing, Kimahri. I know it’s not your style. But I know this, and I know that you’ll feel like the loneliest person in the world when the people you identify with, that you grew up amongst, have been killed.”

“But you are not alone.” Her green eyes were glassy with tears. “I’ll always be here for you. Even if you don’t wanna talk, I’ll be here to be…not talkative, with you. Or I can talk. It doesn’t matter. I just…”

“I mean, what I mean to _say_ is, is that you’re my best friend. I love Yunie to pieces, and I cherish all the others – even Wakka. I know right?!” She laughed, touching Kimahri’s ears. “But you’re the one who is _always_ there for me, and you don’t need to be. You’re just there, you choose to be there, I know you do, and I want you to know that I will be for you, how you have been there for me.”

Kimahri was silent, but she could see the emotion in the depths of his golden eyes. He was gazing at her with such intensity that she almost felt the very weight of it.

Then his arms wrapped around her, and she found herself sitting again, with Kimahri all but curled around her.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, as he hid his face in her lap. Her fingers stroked along his ears, stroked his back, and she felt his agitated twitches settle down as he succumbed to an exhausted slumber.

“ _Oui yna hud ymuha,”_ she murmured, and his ears perked.

The next day, they all moved on – figuratively and literally. However, when everyone else had fallen asleep, Kimahri slipped into her tent and into her thin arms.

It was apparent that he understood exactly what she said, just before he had fallen asleep, and believed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Al Bhed within this "Oui yna hud ymuha" translates to "you are not alone", hence the chapter title.
> 
> And yes, I took the title from madoka, because I'm weeaboo trash~*~


	8. I'm sorry

“ _I can’t do this!”_

Ignoring Rikku’s whine, Kimahri assumed a defensive stance once more. “Again.”

“Why?” The Al Bhed pouted and flopped down, her backside hitting the soft grass. It was a hot, humid day, and thus not the kind of day that Rikku felt like sparring on. In fact, she would sooner be eviscerating a Morbol than struggling through this clammy heat.

Well, maybe that was being a little melodramatic, but _still._

Kimahri was unmoved. “Rikku must become stronger to protect Yuna.”

“You can’t just – that’s not _fair!_ ” she complained, curling up, head in her elbows, which rested against her knees. Her voice was muffled as she went on. “It’s too _hot,_ Kimahri. I can barely make myself move around, never mind fight.” She raised her head, her gaze one of defiance. “I’m tough enough, aren’t I? And besides, I’m never gonna get as strong as you or Auron or the other guys. I’m too small. _I’m_ a girl too! I need protecting!” She batted her eyes, hoping he would let her off.

But Kimahri was unruffled as ever, and his stern gaze did not offer any sign that he had softened. “Rikku is Guardian. Guardians protect summoner.” He crossed his arms. “No excuses.”

Perhaps it was the heat, or her rather erratic moods, or just the fact that Kimahri wasn’t willing to accept her unwillingness to train, but Rikku suddenly felt angered. Scrabbling to her feet, she glared at the Ronso, fingers tightening into fists. “I _am_ trying to protect her. I dunno if any of you noticed, but I’m the only one who actually tries to _stop_ her from going on this pilgrimage. She’s going to die, Kimahri!” Her voice began to rise. “What’s even the point in protecting her if all we’re doing is sending her to her death? It’s like you’re all pretending that that’s _not_ going to happen!”

“We know.” She noticed Kimahri standing up straighter, and how his fur seemed to bristle. “Yuna will do as Yuna wants to do. Nothing we can do, except support her.”

“So,” she leaned forward, eyes narrowing into slits. “None of you want to try and stop her going to her death? That sounds like some pretty piss-poor guarding to me.”

“ _Rikku,”_ Kimahri said warningly, and there was the faintest edge of a growl to his voice.

Clearly, that should have been the point that she backed off. It was rare that Kimahri ever got truly irritated, at least, enough so it showed; but in that moment Rikku felt a strange, perverse pleasure in pushing his buttons. She was frustrated in general by the seeming lack of reception she was receiving in trying to cease Yuna’s pilgrimage. They all said it was her choice, but was it really? Did she really, wholeheartedly, want to die for Spira, because she _wanted_ to; or was it so she could martyr herself and become an everlasting figure of hope to others?  Rikku didn’t believe in altruism, so what would Yuna receive out of giving her life for others? Why would she go to such extreme lengths in order to affirm her own self-worth, or whatever it was she had been lacking for all this time?

She should have backed off, but she didn’t. Instead, she lunged at Kimahri, swinging her claws at him.

“I tried to protect her!” She gritted her teeth as Kimahri’s reflexes kicked in, and he leapt away from her slashes – just in time. “I tried my very hardest to stop her, and you all ruined it! So _excuse me_ if I’m not that bothered about this whole stupid ‘Guardian’ thing if it’s only going to end in Yuna’s death anyhow!”

Her anger was taking over, and the adrenaline that rushed through her veins fuelled each slash and stab she made. Rikku, being faster, managed to evade each of Kimahri’s counterattacks, although she barely managed to miss the point of his spear at some points.

“ ** _Stop!_** ” Kimahri roared, lips pulled back to expose his fangs in a snarl. He was struggling to dodge her attacks, and if _he_ hither then it could prove disastrous. He did not want to hurt her, he would never want to hurt her; no matter how many insults she would make towards him.

“ **Make me!** ”

He had no other choice but to try. Throwing his lance aside, Kimahri coiled back, tensing his limbs before pouncing.

Rikku’s eyes widened as seven foot of ferocious Ronso came hurling towards her. A single moment of clarity cut through the haze of her anger. _Oh gosh. Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh, this is it. I’m going to die._

She screamed as Kimahri all but tackled her, pinning her wrists to the grass. The rest of him hovered over her, eclipsing the entirety of her slender form with his muscular one. His eyes were thin, yellow gashes, glowing in the shadows of his face, pupils drawn into thin slits. His teeth were gritted, jaw clenched as a growl rippled deep within his chest. Yes, she thought, swallowing nervously. He was _definitely_ pissed.

And to think she had done that to him. The normally placid, patient Kimahri being reduced to a snarling beast – _she_ had done that, Rikku realised, her frustration and anger draining away from her body as quickly as it had come. Guilt flooded in to replace it, and she felt her eyes prickling. What was _wrong_ with her?

“ _E’s cunno,_ ” she whispered; her vision blurring and her cheeks burning with shame. He was her friend, her _best_ friend, who had listened to her, comforted her, and even then when he had been trying to help her, she had only thrown it back in his face. She had insulted him, the others, and made a fool of herself. She had attacked him, tried to _hurt_ him, and…

Rikku turned her head to the side, face crumpling. She couldn’t bear to look at him (even if she couldn’t see him). Hot tears slid down her cheeks, as her breaths came in quick, quiet gasps, racked with sobs.

She could feel his grip on her wrists slacken, and the growl in his chest dying down. That only intensified her shame, and she began to weep in earnest.

“I’m s’rry, Kimahri!” Rikku curled up, hiding herself, covering her face with her hands. She cried harder when the Ronso scooped her into his arms, as gentle and caring as he always was. Gingerly, he tried to pry her hands from her face, and she only responded by burying it into his chest.

“Rikku.” Kimahri’s voice was quiet, filled with concern. He tried to get her to look at him, and his attempts were in vain.

“How c-can you still like me? Why did you even start liking me in the _first_ place? I’m j-just a stupid, selfish, stubborn _pycdynt_ and I’m not cut out to be a Guardian!”

“No,” Kimahri replied, his voice full of conviction. “Not stupid. _Not_ selfish. Rikku is good Guardian. Make Yuna smile. Keep Yuna safe. Good friend, to Yuna and Kimahri.”

She sniffled, and retracted slightly, enough for him to look at her. Her eyes were puffy, rimmed red, and her face was flushed and tear-streaked. “Yeah, well…” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Wait, are you trying to say I’m _stubborn_?”

Kimahri shrugged. “Not perfect,” he drawled, smirking lightly as she stuck her tongue out and swatted his shoulder.

“Speak for yourself,” Rikku muttered. She was joking, of course, but she still looked all the moody for it. That was, until Kimahri leaned in and touched his nose to hers.

A smile broke over her face. “Heehee, Kimahri,” the Al Bhed cooed, winding her arms around Kimahri’s neck. “You’re such a big softie, aren’t you? I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. What should I do, huh?”

Her hands drifted up to his ears, and his answering purr made her smile knowingly. “Is that all? I’ve been a bit of a butt to you, after all.”

“Hmm.” Kimahri said nothing, but continued to nuzzle her affectionately. Then she felt something wet and warm lap at her face.

“What are you _doing?_ ” Rikku giggled, attempting to push Kimahri’s muzzle away. “Are you _licking_ my _face_?” She knew she should have been surprised, considering it was well…Kimahri, but really, he was a cat, wasn’t he? “Why? Please explain this to- aaah, that _tickles_!”

She squealed and laughed, giggling and writhing and Kimahri continued to groom her relentlessly, licking away blades of grass and bathing small cuts with his tongue. “Heeheeeeheee cut it _out_ Kimahri! I don’t want kitty slobber all over me – ah! Move it, Furball!”

“No crying,” was his only statement as he pushed his nose against her cheek, temporarily ceasing his affectionate assault. They were lying, side by side, somehow having managed to become entangled in the process of ‘making up’.

“Fine, fine,” she agreed, touching her nose to his. It was a strangely intimate act, and definitely a pleasing one. Rikku smiled, coiling her fingers into his chest fur. “Hey Kimahri.”

“Hmm.” His claws rested on the small of her back, and she shivered as they grazed along the thin strip of exposed skin there.

“Do you think-”

“Hey you guys, we’re-”

Wakka showed up with almost comedic timing, and he held his hands up. “ _Whoa._ Didn’t realise I was interruptin’ anythin’ here!” He grinned and turned on his heel, walking away. “Carry on!”

Oh _great_ , she groaned internally. Now they would be in for it. Well, she thought, as they got up to make their way back to camp; at least he never saw Kimahri licking her. Now  _that_ would certainly subject them to some grins and suggestive nudges.

She had to wonder, just a little, how Kimahri would react to that.


	9. I love you, I love you so

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: interspecies sex, although it's not terribly explicit imo

The others complained when the rain came, but Kimahri liked it. The torrential downpour was a much needed break from Besaid’s stifling warmth; from the sun which sat high in the sky for half the day. Sure, it was still too humid for his tastes, but it was something, and something was better than nothing as far as Kimahri was concerned.

The party took shelter in a hut – Wakka’s, to be precise. It was a little crowded, but not so much that it was claustrophobic, just cosy. Wakka himself was sitting by the fire, stirring a hefty pot of stew. Lulu, Tidus and Yuna were gathered together, flicking through old photo albums and laughing at the memories within.

“That Chappu?” Tidus quipped. “Wow, he _does_ kinda look like me, huh?”

“Yes, he does,” Lulu murmured, stroking the glossy page. And then she quipped “Taller, though.”

There was laughter, along with the blonde’s grumbles. They were only back for a little while, so Wakka could run some errands, but it was a well-needed break from the pilgrimage. For now, they could pretend that the world wasn’t going to end; and that their biggest issue was how much chilli Wakka was planning to add to the meal.

“I have a sensitive stomach!” Tidus protested. “You and Rikku might be able to stomach that spicy stuff, but I have to be on top form so I can protect Yuna.”

“Keep sayin’ that if it makes ya feel better,” Wakka drawled, grinning and dodging the beach ball that was promptly thrown at his head. “Speakin’ of spicy, where _is_ Kuku anyhow?”

Kimahri assumed that the play on Rikku’s name was deliberate.

“She’s out,” Yuna piped up, braiding Lulu’s dark hair. “Said she wanted to check out the forests. Apparently they have a lot of herbs there!”

“Well can somebody go get her? I don’t wanna have to go lookin’ later when this is ready, ya?”

Kimahri rose, stretching out before walking to the entrance. “Kimahri go.”

“Yeah you go _get_ her, ya big dog,” Tidus snickered, yelping as Yuna cuffed his ear.

“Isn’t he a cat?” Wakka asked, as Kimahri walked out of the hut, ignoring them.

-

The rainforests were typical of a tropical island. The trees were high, sheltering the forest floor with a canopy of thick, glossy leaves. Of course, that didn’t stop the rain from eventually trickling down; sliding off the shiny foliage until the ground beneath Kimahri’s feet was as damp as his fur. The very air felt heavier, far more humid than it had on the beach.

It wasn’t as quite as he had expected it to be, either. The rain rustled the trees, flowing down stems of plants and gathering in luscious blooms. Crickets chirped, and his sharp ears picked up the faint cries of animals in the distance. There were no fiends to be seen. It was all very tranquil, and Kimahri found himself walking at a more languid pace than usual.

She was in here somewhere; he could smell her. Above the smell of wet earth, the heavy perfume of flowers and the lilt of rainwater was Rikku. Her scent was easy to pick up amongst the greenery; spices, sweat and gunpowder.

Following her scent, Kimahri’s saunter soon became a stalk, as he prowled through the thick bushes in search of her. It didn’t mean it; it was simply in his nature, for assuming such a predatory form was entirely instinctive. The air seemed strangely charged, heavy with something he couldn’t name but somehow understood.

There she was, standing within a small clearing. Rikku, like him, was soaked to her skin. The girl’s clothing, as tight as it was, clung to her skin. Her hair, which usually bounced as she walked, was plastered to her face, slicked down. Kimahri could see the rainwater upon her tanned skin and how it beaded upon her thighs and shoulders; how it dribbled down from her hairline to the crook of her neck…

Rikku turned around to see the Ronso, staring straight at her.

“Oh, Kimahri!” She touched her chest, eyes wide, surprised but not startled. “I…I didn’t see you.”

But she saw him now. Oh yes, Rikku could _definitely_ see him – all of him, aside from what the little clothing he wore covered. “You’re soaked,” she blurted out, gazing a little too intensely at the muscles rippling underneath Kimahri’s drenched fur. So _that’s_ what he looked like, all wet. _Huh. How about that?_

He was walking towards her, slowly, too slowly and yet too quickly. Rikku swallowed. _Say something._ “Won’t you, um…catch a cold, like that?”

Kimahri said nothing. Instead, he reached out and caught her wrist, gently bringing it to his chest. He was warm, so warm, that his touch almost burned her. She could feel his heart, hammering underneath a strong ribcage.

Green eyes widened.

They were alone, yet it seemed as if there was some force watching over them. The scene seemed overly sensuous, even the way the tropical plants bloomed seemed obscene. Rainwater dripped from the leaves overhead onto her bare skin; catching one another in thin rivulets which coursed down her spine, her arms, and dripped off her fingertips.

Golden eyes followed them.

Kimahri wasn’t even staring at her that obviously, in the way that was so blatant that Rikku turned her head away in disgust whenever it was cast upon her. That was the stare of men who wanted to claim her, of boys who battled with their pubescent hormones. She had felt it many a time, and it made her skin crawl and her arms fold over herself, uncomfortably. His gaze was penetrating. It wasn’t one which raked over her form, wanting to use it and toss it aside; but one that saw straight through her, into her soul. It left trails that burned, and she almost moaned when his eyes settled on her more feminine attributes.

Rikku licked her lips, suddenly parched for all the desire that burned within her.

“We should…” she trailed off, for she knew that such a union was heavily forbidden, even amongst the Al Bhed; but gods, every inch of her wanted it to be, to come into fruition, so much so that she found herself backing against a thick tree despite her words, and reaching out when he followed to meet her body with his.

Rikku was surprised by Kimahri’s tenderness, and she knew she shouldn’t have been considering that was all he had ever been like with her. He didn’t take all of her clothes off, just enough so that her skin met his when their torsos aligned. The bark scraped a little against her back as Kimahri lifted her against it, but then he slid a hand between her shoulder blades and her rear with the other and it was _perfect._

He licked the beads of sweat and rain from her skin, sluicing it until she was squirming. His nose pressed against her cheek and he purred at their closeness until giggles wracked her slender form. Rikku’s laughter didn’t stop when Kimahri eased their bodies together, but they soon dissolved into moans and half-coherent exclamations when he began to move them together.

She came before he did, with a strangled cry and exclamation of love. Kimahri only held her close, almost too tightly as he approached his climax seconds after.

-

_“E muja oui cu.”_

Rikku’s head snapped up, a smile playing with the corners of her lips. “Your pronunciation is a bit off but I’d say that was a fair try.”

Unfazed, Kimahri only nudged the smaller girl. “What mean?”

Stopping in her tracks, Rikku grinned and threw her arms around Kimahri’s neck. “What do you think it means?” she whispered, her eyes glittering.


	10. Is that the truth?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 Corinthians 13:13   
> And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love

A summoner’s pilgrimage had a set path – they had to visit each of the temples to receive the aeons and then travel to the holy land of Zanarkand to receive the final aeon – the only means known to defeat Sin. Unbeknownst to them, however, one of the Guardians themselves would be made into the fayth required to form the final aeon; a prospect which Yuna rejected without hesitation. In doing this, they were forced to battle Yunalesca, and her defeat signified the end of that route. Thus, they had to think of another plan of action, one which would allow them to defeat Sin without use of the final aeon.

As such a thing had never been attempted before; it was most definitely a daunting task to undertake. Still, Rikku was overjoyed all the same. Even if there was a slim hope that they would succeed _without_ Yuna having to sacrifice herself, she would seize it with both hands.

Hope. That was something that the group lacked at the moment. Privately, Rikku thought she would rather have the facts than hold faith in a false cause. Besides, the faith that had held Spira together for so long fuelled the prejudice that had caused her people to be ostracized. She had no love for Yevon in the first instance, but she held even less regard for the religion now that so many lies were beginning to show through it.

To think that Yu Yevon, the namesake of the faith, had been the very cause for Spira’s sorrow.

_//“Yevon's teachings and the Final Summoning give the people of Spira hope. Without hope, they would drown in their sorrow.”//_

No, Rikku thought, as she stared out into clear blue skies. That was not hope – that was a lie. Yevon’s teachings were all lies, and the Final Summoning was the fabric that was pulled over the people’s eyes to stop them seeking the truth. She didn’t want to be in the dark, she wanted to see the truth in full clarity, even if it blinded her with its sheer absolution.

Even if they couldn’t defeat Sin, she thought, at least they wouldn’t be perpetuating this meaningless cycle.

The girl twitched, glancing around as she heard soft, padding footsteps. A smile tugged at her lips. “Hey Kimahri.”

Away from the bustle of the cockpit, Rikku sat in the observation deck. It was too much to be amongst the others, who still seemed in shock from the revelations of the day. For her, it had seemed so obvious all this time.

She waited until he had sat down beside her, by the window, before asking “are you surprised?”

He shook his head. “Kimahri could tell something was amiss.”

“Yeah.” Rikku leaned her head against the Ronso’s shoulder. “I feel horrible for Yunie, and the others of course, but…in a way I’m _glad_ that they know about Yevon, y’know.” She sighed as Kimahri slipped his strong arm around her shoulders. Amongst all the chaos, it had been difficult to spend any time with him recently – which should have been the least of her worried, considering, but she was a sixteen year old in love. Who could blame her for thinking of her boyfriend more than the fate of the world every now and then?

Wait. Did she just think of him as her _boyfriend?_

“The truth lies outside Yevon’s teachings,” Kimahri said, and Rikku snapped out of her reverie.

“Yeah!” the Al Bhed responded, nodding enthusiastically. Then she decided a subject change was needed.

“Speakin’ of truth…” her arms coiled Kimahri’s torso; which made his amber eyes narrow ever so slightly in suspicion.

“Do the Ronso have, like,” she pursed her lips “girlfriends and boyfriends? Like how Tidus and Yunie are?” Even if they never confirmed it, it was pretty obvious that they were more than just friends. “Or is it just like…a free for all?”

Kimahri scoffed, bringing an arm up as he tried to mask his amusement as coughing.

“I’m being _serious_!”

The ronso shook his head, kneading his temples, but she could see the way his mouth curved underneath the shadow of his palm. “Ronso have mates.”

“Mates?” That cast a rather curious image in her head which she quickly got rid of. “As in, they mate during a specific period, or they have partners?”

Kimahri went stiff, and she realised he was becoming rather embarrassed at this point. Rikku smirked, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t act all coy, Mister. It’s too late for that now.”

He gave her a withering look.

“ _Please?”_ Rikku whined a little more until he finally relented.

“Ronso take mates,” he stated, eyes fixed upon the horizon “one at a time. Like human.”

“I see,” she nodded. So, monogamy was a feature. Well, she figured that would be such, considering the Ronso were followers of Yevon, and Yevon panned just about anything else. “Do you need to mate during a specific period? Like, during heats?”

Kimahri groaned, covering his face. “ _Rikku._ ”

“I’m just _curious_!”

He gave her a look which clearly said that he didn’t believe she was _just_ curious, and then nodded.

“No,” Kimahri cut Rikku off when she opened her mouth to ask more questions, placing a large hand over it. “ _No._ ”

“Rude!” Rikku pouted and swatted away his arm, before scrabbling into his lap. “I just wanna know, in case – well, in case you wanted –”

She wasn’t able to word herself properly. Rikku frowned, her hands clenching into tight fists, shoulders hunching. “I got worried cuz’ I realise that I kind of think of you, like – like how Yuna sees Tidus, see? Like a boyfriend. And, I dunno if you saw yourself as being _my_ boyfriend – cuz’ I’ve never had one, and I dunno much about that sorta’ thing, I just know I really lo- _like_ you, and I do want you to be…mine. All mine.”

She looked down at her hands. Her cheeks burned from a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. “I hope that made sense…”

Rikku blinked when blue fingers eclipsed her own, sliding over calloused skin and squeezing her hand tenderly.

“Rikku worries too much,” she heard, prompting her to look up into warm, golden eyes. A hand slid around her waist, pulling her a little closer.

“What,” the Al Bhed bit her lip “you mean you _do_ see yourself as my boyfriend-type-person…as… _mine_?”

Kimahri nodded. “Thought Rikku knew,” he said gently, before leaning in to nuzzle the top of her head.

Her lips parted, and for a moment she was silent as her mind processed what the other had said. Thus far, they had made love a few times – too few, as far as she was concerned, but that was beside the point. Still, that didn’t necessarily equate to a relationship, Rikku knew, but she had hoped that Kimahri assumed such an attitude so they _would_ be in one…it seemed unlike him to think otherwise, considering how taciturn and reserved he was.

“ _Ec dryd dra dnidr,_ ” Rikku asked, fingers coiling into his fur. “ _Is that the truth?”_

“A Ronso cannot lie,” Kimahri stated, hugging her a little tighter. Rikku’s eyes lidded, tension flooding out her body as her breath did.

“I don’t believe in a lot of things,” she murmured “but I’m glad I’ve always believed in you.”


	11. We're here for you

All that Kimahri remembered was how hard his head had hit the ground before he blacked out - and then nothing. He couldn’t even recall how he had fallen over in the _first_ place. The only thing he was sure of, then and there, was that his head hurt like _hell_ and whoever that was blathering in the corner was _really_ getting on his nerves.

“Whoa!” Tidus exclaimed as Kimahri lashed out at him, scrabbling back from the snarling Ronso. He swallowed. Something was obviously still up with him, because Kimahri _never_ acted like that outside battle. For the first time since they had first encountered, Tidus was frightened of him. “Easy…” he held his hands up in a placating gesture. “ _Easy,_ man.”

“What was that – is he awake?” Yuna called, skittering over between the pair.

“Yuna! Stay back!”

“It’s okay,” she said reassuringly, gesturing at Tidus behind her. She could see Kimahri squinting as he looked her over, peering, before his eyes snapped wide open.

“ _Yuna_?” His tone was one of incredulity. Yuna giggled. Just as she thought, he still remembered her.

“It’s me, Kimahri,” she murmured, scooting closer to her guardian. Kimahri blinked, stunned, not moving a muscle even as she placed a hand on his forehead and checked his pulse. Then, he reached out to touch her cheek, tentatively.

“Bigger,” he said quietly, voice full of wonder.

“Yes,” she smiled, grasping his hand with her much smaller one. “You hit your head and lost your memory, which will take a little while to fully come back. Are you feeling alright?”

Ah, right. That made sense, he supposed, attempting to sit up. He soon regretted trying to do so, however, as his vision swerved and his head pounded in protest.

“Here-” she touched the rim of a bottle to his lips, and Kimahri wrinkled his nose at the smell.

 “ _Please_? It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

He grunted, taking the bottle and downing it. The taste was sour, and the liquid burned his throat.

Tidus began to laugh at the coughing fit that ensued, but was soon silenced by a ferocious glare from the indignant warrior. The blonde rolled his eyes. “Geez, who fell out the wrong side of the bed _this_ morning,” he muttered.

Yuna hushed him, continuing to check Kimahri over. “Looks like your wounds have all healed up. It’ll take a little while for your memory to return.” She flashed him an apologetic smile. “Maybe you should take a nap until then?”

Kimahri nodded slowly, wincing as his neck ached. He still couldn’t comprehend just how much _older_ Yuna was, considering the last thing he remembered about her was that she barely reached past his knee in height.

A nap sounded pretty good, though, so he obliged, curling up in his previous position once more. Perhaps when he woke up, things would start coming back to him…

“ _Kimahhhrrrriiiii!”_

His brow furrowed. Was someone calling him?

“Yunie! Is he okay?!”

“He’s fine, just suffering from a little memory loss – he doesn’t know where he is or even who the other Guardians are, so it seems-”

“Yeah! He went for me!” Blondie yelled, through what sounded like a mouthful of food.

A mournful wail cut through the air. “Oh _no_! What if his memory doesn’t come back? What if he doesn’t remember me?”

“Glad _someone’s_ got their priorities straight.”

“Shut up!”

Kimahri felt hands scrabbling at the blankets he had taken refuge under. He groaned as they were pulled away from his body, an arm coming up to shield his eyes from the sun.

“Kimahri?”

The Ronso grunted, deigning to look at whomever it was that wanted his attention so much. He was rather surprised to see an Al Bhed, of all people – and a very pretty one at that. Golden hair cascaded over a heart shaped face and green eyes gazed at him beseechingly, glistening with tears.

“Don’t you remember me?”

 He didn’t, but her voice, thick with emotion, brought a lump into Kimahri’s throat. It was a surreal experience to have a complete stranger provoke such a reaction in him.

“It’s me, Rikku.” She sniffled and swiped at her eyes. “I’m your…girlfriend-best-friend-mate type person.”

Kimahri was beginning to wonder if this was all some elaborate joke; that or some cruel attempt to erode his sanity into dust. A mate? _Him_? He had never bothered trying to look for one, and had never truly been interested in the female of his tribe in any case; so what would possibly possess him to go for a tiny Al Bhed girl?

And why would she, in turn, want him?

Tears were falling down her face now, dripping onto his. Kimahri blinked, tentatively reaching up to stroke them away.

The way she leaned into his touch made his chest tighten. “Rikku…”

The girl brightened, although her eyes were still rimmed red. “Yeah, that’s it.” He stiffened as he felt small fingers at his ears, but the strange familiarity of her touch made him relax once more.

“ _Mate?”_

“Hmmm-hmmm,” she nodded. A watery smile graced her lips. “A little while now – look-”

Rikku held up her hand, and upon her wrist was a red ribbon, as delicate as her arm was. It contrasted with her tan complexion, blood red against brown. Yellow eyes widened in recognition of its significance, before glancing down at his left hand.

There was another, although thicker, tied around his wrist.

“See?” Her hands rested upon his, and he looked at her once more. Seeing her smile, as new as the sight seemed, brought a warmth that he knew all too well. Love.

He nodded.

“Rikku?” Yuna approached, relaxing upon the sight of the couple together. She smiled. “Perhaps we should let Kimahri rest, now.”

Rikku agreed, somewhat reluctantly, but she leaned in and planted a kiss on the broken tusk of Kimahri’s horn. “Yunie’s right, you should sleep.” She retracted, gazing upon him with tender regard. “If you start hurting again, just say, and me and Yuna will be right over. _Fa'na rana vun oui.”_

The words flashed in his mind, like a white, bright light. _We’re here for you_.

“ _Dryhg oui,”_ he blurted out, just as she began to leave, and the way her eyes widened as she turned to look at him brought a strange joy.

Love. Yes, it was definitely love.


	12. This is my despair

They were back at Home, or what was left of it. Cid had to retrieve some parts locked away in an underground tomb so he could tend to the damage done to the airship. There was no other place they could source them, short of Bevelle, which was off-limits for obvious reasons. Therefore, Home was their only option; but all of them felt uneasy about traversing the ruins, walking upon the grounds which so many once tread. It almost felt disrespectful, in some vague, unsettling way.

There were fiends, hoards upon hoards of them from the vengeful dead. Fighting them with reminders of who they used to be all around the party felt wrong. Fighting some monster in the Calm Lands was so different to this. It was almost as if the Al Bhed were being killed all over again.

Kimahri kept a close eye on Rikku, and kept her closer still. Her eyes were glassy, out of focus, lacking the ability to concentrate on the task at hand for all the death surrounding her. Once or twice she stumbled on the debris littering the ground, an ever present reminder of the tragedy that took place. He understood all too well what that felt like. They hadn’t set foot on Gagazet since they had acquired the airship again, and Kimahri didn’t feel ready to see the snow that was still stained with the blood of his kin.

Would he ever be?

Cid grunted as he ducked down to inspect the crumbled remains of an entrance. “No chance,” he muttered, rising. His expression betrayed his inner turmoil, as did the clenching and unclenching of his hands.

“We’re gonna have to go in via the crypts.”

For the first time since they had arrived, Rikku reacted with her usual sharpness. Her head snapped up, eyes wide with horror. “ _No_!”

Cid inhaled, apparently expecting her protest. “Rikku-”

“We can’t go there!” Her entire body was tight with tension, from the way she planted her feet on the ground to her strained expression. It struck Kimahri just how different she looked when her tormented memories began to surface. “They’re sealed to stop the fiends getting in!”

“An’ we won’t let any get in,” Cid responded harshly, face tight. He soon crumbled, however, when Rikku began to cry in front of him.

“ _I d-dun’ wanna go_ ,” she wailed, her sobs strangling her words in a way that pained Kimahri physically. Her breath was sucked in through gasps, few and far between the tears streaming down her face. Stumbling forward, she grabbed Cid’s shirt, curling her fingers into it and pressing her face against him.

“ _Fro tet drec rybbah,”_ she wept, body racked with the force of her anguish. “ ** _Fryd ryja fa tuha du tacanja drec?!_** _”_

Cid’s face screwed up, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to hold himself together; to deny the evidence all around them that their people had been ripped apart and trampled upon. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, stroking his daughter’s head before unlatching himself from her and walking on.

Kimahri stepped forward and enveloped Rikku in an almost-crushing embrace, kneeling down as her tears seeped into his fur, muffling her cries into his shoulder.

He watched the others moving on, grey-faced under the harsh sun. In the light of day, they could see the crimes Yevon had committed in their full atrocity. There were no nuances to misinterpret, no shadows in which they could hide. Here they were, surrounded by death and the remainders of the broken lives left.

Kimahri only wish he had the knowledge to answer Rikku’s question, but he was just as lost as she was.

-

After Rikku had settled down once more, the party regrouped at the entrance of the underground crypts – the only place that had been untouched by the Guado’s crusade. She smiled at the irony; that they would leave the dead alone, but execute the living in numbers. That was Yevon summed up, as far as she was concerned. They had more respect for the Al Bhed that had passed than those still alive – as if they had atoned for their heresy through death.

Cid used a glyph, one which he had had on his person since before they left. “Of course I had it,” he said in response to Rikku’s hard stare “I was the one who brought the Al Bhed here, remember?”

Yes, that was true. She thought it was a great idea, at first, but now it was obvious to her just how much risk they had placed themselves in by doing so. _Like luring cattle into a slaughterhouse._

She could sense the discomfort of the others, particularly of Lulu and Wakka. Whilst she didn’t feel a shred of malice towards either of them, she was unsympathetic towards their lack of ease about stepping into the tombs. If she could do it, they could.

A large, gentle hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up.

“Rikku okay?” Kimahri asked quietly.

She nodded slowly, taking his arm. “Mmm.” Rikku pressed her cheek against his fur, taking solace in his scent, his presence and familiarity. “Just stay by me, please.”

He said nothing, but she could tell that was what he had intended to do regardless of what she wanted. A smile graced her lips, briefly. “Let’s go.”

Their footsteps echoed through the passage. Cid led the way, holding a light, one which contrasted with the ancient-looking ruins surrounding them. None of the others spoke at all. It was only the three taking the lead who dared to, which was just about right, Rikku supposed. If any non-Al Bhed had the right to transgress upon these grounds, it was Kimahri. He knew, he understood, and thus his presence would be accepted.

It was Yuna who broke the silence once they reached a large hall. “What is this place?” she whispered.

“The chamber of the dead,” Cid replied, touching a device in his palm. It prompted the light to split up and shoot up, illuminating the vast room with an almost ethereal blue light. It was fitting, Rikku thought. “It’s an Al Bhed tradition to write down the names of the dead in stone, so we’ll always remember them. So this is where the list is.”

“I see,” she murmured.

“A very respectful tradition,” Lulu added softly, head bowed.

“Hmm.” She could tell they hadn’t seen it yet, and they were too polite to ask. “Daddy,” she queried, almost lightly. “Where is the list again?”

Cid’s hesitation was audible; for he knew _she_ knew fine well where the list was. It was the look she gave him that prompted him to speak. “…On the walls.”

“…T-The walls?” Yuna stammered, and Rikku could see her grip tighten on Tidus’ arm.

“The walls,” she repeated, walking over to the closest one. Her hand reached out, almost reverently, to touch the engravings there. She could hear them following her, slowly. “We scored the names of the dead into the walls, with chisels and our own bare hands. The struggle to do so symbolises the struggle to move on, and the pain we feel doing it represents the pain that grieving brings.” Her voice was hollow, almost as if she was reciting a verse from a book.

There was silence.

“You’re…” Wakka reached out, his fingers daring to graze the strange runes carved into stone. “You’re tellin’ me that… _all_ of these walls-” he gestured around him “has the names of your dead on them.” He pointed at the wall in front of him. The glyphs were crowded together, name upon name upon name, from the ground up, stretching towards the endless ceiling.

Rikku had never seen him look so pale.

“Yes,” she murmured, turning to face them again. “All of this is just one room. There are five of them in total. They mark those we have lost since the start of the machina war, but there are other tombs across Spira, some of which we probably don’t even know of yet.”

“There will be many more deaths that we haven’t been able to record,” her hand swept around her. “But this is the most comprehensive list we have, formed from a compilation of names that have come from many different families, handed down from generation to generation.”

“ _Drec_ ,” Rikku whispered “ _ec so tacbyen_.”

-

Whilst Rikku and Cid were inspecting the hoard of parts, Lulu approached Kimahri, standing guard by the entrance to the underground store.

"Do you think she's going to be alright?" she asked, voice low. Kimahri glanced at her, taking in the way her blood-red eyes gazed upon the younger girl, bereft.

"No choice," he murmured. None of them had any choice, really - it was all they could do to survive, to keep going on. They didn't have the time or energy to stop and recuperate from all that had happened to them thus far.

"What was it she said," the mage queried, softly "just before we came here?"

Kimahri hesitated. And then he decided that perhaps they too should be aware of Rikku's suffering, underneath the bright and bubbly facade she wore.

**"This is my despair."**

**-**

None of them spoke thereafter, until long after they had retrieved the parts they needed. It was a rush to leave, for darkness was coming, and the fiends were most vicious when not deterred by the light of day.

“If Yevon’s teachings are real,” she said to Kimahri later that night “then perhaps the reason why Sin keeps coming back is because he smells the blood on the hands of its followers, long after its been washed away.”

He said nothing, but the way he held her told Rikku all she needed to know.

That he understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I would put a little in about what I thought the Al Bhed death rituals to be. I can't imagine burials would be that popular, considering they lived in the desert (for the most part) and many probably went MIA, sadly.
> 
> Also, I need to stop referencing Madoka in my writing, lmao.


	13. Is that what you dream of?

“ _Oooooh!_ Kimahri, c’mere! Come quick!”

Kimahri shook his head but obliged, making his way over to Rikku. Her nose was pressed against the glass of a display case, therein which rested a mineral of significant value. It certainly _looked_ like it did too, so Rikku’s fascination was understandable, but her breath was beginning to fog the case and they were garnering some odd looks.

He took her arm and gently but insistently pried her away from the exhibit. “Awww but _Kimahri-_ ” she began to whine, before her attention was caught again by another sight. She pointed, bouncing on her toes slightly. “Can we go see that one? Please? _Pretty please,_ with sugarlumps on top?!”

Kimahri inhaled before nodding, and was promptly dragged over to it by the smaller girl. Honestly, they probably looked a bizarre sight together – a seven foot ronso in full battle regalia being pulled around by a tiny, hyperactive Al Bhed. Kimahri was used to strange looks, though, so it didn’t bother him too much that they were probably garnering more attention than the actual museum exhibits. Plus Rikku was holding his hand, and that felt nice.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Rikku whispered, her voice filled with awe. “Blue tourmaline, one of the rarest of its colours you can get. It’s really hard to cut too, apparently, so only the _best_ can work with it!”

It was lovely, the way the light refracted blue; but Kimahri was more taken by Rikku and the way her eyes gleamed emerald green, how her hair shone like spun gold. In these moments of downtime where they could forget about the impending apocalypse for a few hours, she looked radiant.

Forgetting where they were, Kimahri reached out and brushed back a strand of blonde, tucking it behind Rikku’s ear. She blinked and glanced at him before giggling and turning away.

His hand quickly returned to his side and they resumed their exploration of the museum. Rikku rambled on happily about minerals and their various properties including hardness, lustre, their structure, streak and cleavage. Kimahri drank in the information, nodding in a timely fashion and filing the facts away for future reference. If Rikku loved gems this much then he would have to learn how to fashion jewellery out of them…

“Dun’ tell me you two are lookin’ up weddin’ rings,” Wakka drawled from across the hall, grinning even as Kimahri turned to give him a death glare.

Rikku jerked, her eyes snapping open and colour flooding her face. “S-Shut up, jerkbag!” she squeaked, her hands flailing by her side. Kimahri growled and ushered the flustered girl away from Wakka.

It was more than a little awkward after that, the (one-sided) conversation stilted and eye contact avoided. Frustration began to prickle at Kimahri. It was so seldom that they ever became like this but conversation of their future always managed to do it. Whether it was because of the uncertainty of there _being_ a future because of Sin or because talking about further commitment was somehow discomfiting was beyond Kimahri’s scope of insight.

But he knew one thing, and that was if they _were_ to survive this then he wanted nothing other than to remain by Rikku’s side thereafter, married or not.

He touched Rikku’s shoulder, who flinched.

“Oh! Sorry, I…my mind was somewhere else,” she laughed, the sound forced. Kimahri’s brow furrowed, his gaze unwavering, and she slowly began to crumble under the scrutiny. “…I’m sorry.” Rikku frowned, looking down and fidgeting. She was quiet for a moment, evidently unsure of how to word whatever was perturbing her in that moment. “I was just thinking…”

Kimahri remained silent, but his hand drifted to hers before clasping it. Honestly, he cared little of the attention they would receive. Reassuring Rikku was more important to him.

He felt pleased when her fingers linked with his and she shuffled a little closer. Her head came to rest on his arm. She sighed. “Well…like…would you be going back to Gagazet if... _when_ we defeat Sin?”

Kimahri frowned. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what would become of him if they did manage to make it through Sin. The Ronso were still grieving and they still hadn’t gotten around to electing a new Elder yet. His next priority after Sin would be to ensure his people were okay, but how he would manage that he wasn’t sure of…

“Kimahri doesn’t know,” he said, quietly, stroking the back of her hand. “Future is uncertain, and cannot be predicted.”

“Yeah…” she looked down at her feet. “I’m not sure…I mean, I never really expected to get roped into all this, y’know? I just…” Rikku shuddered, inhaling. “Kimahri. What Wakka said – when he joked about us planning our wedding, well…”

“Is…is that what you would want?”

Kimahri shifts, placing his hands on Rikku’s shoulders. He looks her in the eye. “Kimahri want to be with Rikku,” he said gently. He gives her a light squeeze. “If Rikku wants to marry, Kimahri will marry. If not, doesn’t matter, so long as Rikku is happy.”

She bites her lip and shuts her eyes tight, exhaling. It’s as if she’s preparing herself for some revelation, and Kimahri feels a twinge of fear despite his calm.

“I wanna be with you too,” she blurts out, and he can see the absolute conviction in her green eyes when she looks at him again. “I dunno much about what I want, but I do know that. But…would you still want to be with me, even if…”

He tilts his head.

“Even if…even if I’m not ready to settle down yet? Even if I wanna explore the world a bit more? I just…I don’t know if I’m _ready_ to stay in one place right now. I want to see the world, I’ve always wanted to – and I have! And it’s just amazing, to see and explore new places, new thing.” Her eyes are glimmering. “But…I don’t feel like I’ve seen enough, and I _know_ what you’ll do if your people need you – you’ll go to them, because you’re like that, Kimahri. You’re dependable, you’re always there for those who need you most, and that’s why I love you so much.”

“And I think the Ronso _will_ need you,” she said, a tinge of remorse in her voice. “More than I need you. It’s not fair for me to expect you to come with me after Sin on whatever adventures I wanna go on; when your people are hurting, when they need you to help bring them back together. Even though I _really_ want to drag you with me, even if I’ll miss you so-”

Her voice cracked. “B-But I don’t want to lose you – I still wanna be with you-!”

Kimahri brought the girl to his chest, holding her close. “Rikku worries too much,” he murmured. He leaned down, nuzzling the top of her head whilst she sniffled into his fur. “Kimahri wants Rikku to be happy. If Rikku wants to travel, Rikku should travel. Kimahri will wait for Rikku.”

The Al Bhed looked up, her eyes bright with tears.

“Kimahri promises,” he said. “Kimahri will wait as long as it takes.”

-

They’re in the tent.

It had been raining. Rikku’s hair is still damp despite having rubbed it furiously with a towel. Kimahri was slowly drying off himself, and Rikku took great delight in the way his fur had fluffed up in the process. She had tried to smooth it out, brushing at it despite Kimahri’s protests.

“ _Rikku_ ,” Kimahri growled quietly as the girl burst out into yet _another_ fit of giggles. Apparently the way his fur fuzzed up with static electricity build up was just _hilarious_ to her – or at least, that’s what she kept saying.

“I c-can’t help it,” Rikku laughed, bringing both hands to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her amusement. She only laughed harder when he huffed and buried himself under the blankets. “Oh _Kimahri!_ Don’t be like that! _”_

“ _Hmmmph.”_ He remained under the covers, stubborn, refusing to budge even as her hands pawed at him.

“Big baby,” she crooned, squirming and burrowing under the blankets next to him.

After a few minutes of silence, Kimahri turned and wrapped his arms around the petite girl, breathing in the scent of her hair. Rikku starts talking into his chest, her voice muffled by thick fur.

“Hey, Kimahri, I hope ya know what you’re letting yourself in for, promising me you’ll stick with me and all that.”

Kimahri looks down at her, squinting.

She’s grinning widely. “I want a big family, y’know? Six or seven kids, at _least_ , and I want Daddy to be able to come stay with us too.”

He snorts quietly and closes his eyes once more. “Sleep.”

“Is that the kinda life you want, Kimahri? Eight kids, a loopy wife and a crazy in-law?”

Kimahri doesn’t have to think about whether he wants that or not, for he already knows that he does. He could almost imagine himself then and there, lying next to Rikku, a red ribbon tied around her left wrist. Her hair would be longer, but it would stick up the same way it always did after waking; and she would still curl up against his chest like she always had. When she dreamt, though, she wouldn’t twitch or wake up crying, for the demons that plagued her would be long since laid to rest. Her body would be a little less firm, a little more filled out, but it would still be as beautiful as it ever had been because it belonged to Rikku.

They would stir as light filtered in the room, an ever present reminder that each day was another day in the era of the Eternal Calm. Cid would be clattering around, singing and occasionally swearing when a few of their more rambunctious young began running around his ankles. _“Will you piss-poor sorry excuses of parents please get up and remove your damn sprogs before I end up steppin’ on them?!”_   he would shout, even as he made breakfast for them all, even as he consoled one of the children who had tripped and fell.

Rikku would get up first, for she was the early riser out of the two. “ _Wakey wakey,”_ she would whisper, coaxing Kimahri out from under the blankets with ear scratches and promises of food. He would open his eyes and drink in the sight of her sleepy, serene face, broken up by laughter once some of their children barged in and began babbling and climbing up her.

Her laughter would be warm, as full and as golden as the chime of a bell, just as it was now; the same sound that made his chest constrict and his heart swell.

Rikku was quiet by the time Kimahri made to reply to her, so instead of speaking he settled for nuzzling her blonde head; feeling her sigh and squirm into a more comfortable position in his arms.

“ _ec dryd fryd oui tnays uv?_ ” she mumbled drowsily, on the cusp of slumber.

Kimahri's grip on her tightened ever so slightly, grasping on to the hope that he would have his sweet dream.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madoka references e v e r y w h e r e.
> 
> Also, next chapter will be the last!!


End file.
